


[His Obsession]

by RK000



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman (Movies - Nolan), Batman - All Media Types, Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice, Batman: Arkham (Video Games), Batman: The Telltale Series (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Rule 63
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-13
Updated: 2020-03-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:01:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23132857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RK000/pseuds/RK000
Summary: The Prince of Crime turns himself in. Batwoman desperately tries to understand his new devious schemes; and little she knows of the real problem behind it all.
Relationships: Batwoman/Joker, Joker/Bryce Wayne, female!Batman/Joker, female!Bruce Wayne/Joker
Comments: 13
Kudos: 155





	[His Obsession]

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: It gets a little bit violent I guess. Stay safe y'all.

There are not enough words to describe Gotham for what it truly is. The city is dark, _literally_. Gray clouds are always looming above. There are rare nights when you can see a few stars blinking weakly from far away. The streets are old and unattended. It’s always cold and foggy.

The city looks even more dead as the batmobile drives silently to Arkham asylum.

Metal bars of the gate goes open and the batmobile reaches the front entrance. Batwoman hops out of the vehicle, landing silently at the front door. The security guards are already taking a step back in fear.

As frequently as she visits this place, not a single soul that works here seems to get used to the dark and fearsome presence of Batwoman.

They all move away and flinch to themselves the moment she walks inside. Her cape flows behind her in the air. The cowl and her cape is black as the bat emblem on her chest, but the inside layer of her cape is lined with a silver fabric. This layer is the one that keeps the bullets away and covers most of her armor.

She brings up a hand to reach her gauntlet and type something on the transparent panel on it. She locks the gate to the level seven floor behind herself and turns off the cameras.

Batwoman does not need extra eyes when she is beating Joker to a bloody pulp.

The sound of laughter is the first thing that hits her ears the moment she walks down the corridor. Usually, the sound of laughter should be delightful and full of joy. This one spreads _fear_ and _pain_ instead. Nausea claws at her insides as she stands behind the door to the inmate’s cell. There are no other patients on this floor. This whole section is specially built for this delusional clown. Founded by Wayne enterprises.

The metal door opens with an ear torturing creaky noise, her fist tightens around the handle angrily. The mumblings and the giggles stop.

“You’re _late_.” His tongue clicks on the _T_.

There is a disheveled mess of green locks at a far away corner in the dark. The only thing illuminating the crooked figure is the wrathful light of her cowl, sending daggers with her stare.

The Joker is used to her silence, as he is used to being choked against a wall with her fist squeezing his fragile throat. So when she is pushing the life out of him in a matter of seconds, he doesn’t really put up a fight.

“What the hell are you planning this time?” Batwoman bares her teeth at him, leaning in to his scarred face. That nasty grin on his face widens with pleasure of the pain. She squeezes one more time before loosening her grip on him enough so he can talk. His eyes shine. 

“Oh Batsy, Batsy, _Batsy_...” Batwoman’s hold on his throat becomes threateningly tighter as he chants.

“It’s been a while since you’ve seen the little old me, won’t you agree? I just wanted a little chitchat, darling.”

She nearly pukes on him when she hears the nickname. All these years fighting him and he still manages to find something creepier than before to throw her way. His creativity at making her nauseous needs a prize, really.

How or Why in the hell he came willingly to the asylum is out of her comprehension. She'll beat it out of him if she needs to.

Joker moves his head, trying to get more comfortable while he gets choked. The green curls don’t hide the dangerous green of his eyes. The bat always recognizes that crazy glint.

“The _chitchats_ are for Harley; if you have a request that regards _me_ breaking down _your_ bones, I’m all ears.”

Batwoman tilts her head to the side, pushing him to the wall with her weight. It’s almost unnerving how no one seems to notice all the muscles he hides under his jumpsuits or fancy tailored suits.

“Uh, yes.” He looks up as if he just remembered something.

“The _bones_. You almost made that sound _dirty_ , Batsy darling.” He winks. 

Batwoman has no idea what’s up with him and this new nickname. She likes _‘flying rat_ ’ and ‘ _bat bitch’_ way better than this one. His nasty smile makes the final blow to her nerves. She breathes down his face like a hawk waiting for her prey to squirm. Joker’s eyes rolls behind and he shivers, pushing himself to her instead of the wall. That’s enough for Batwoman to throw him across the dark room. She hits a code on her gauntlet and the door creaks closed on its own, blocking the only source of light except for the eyes of her helmet. Two seconds later the lights of the cell turns on. The Joker hisses on the ground, covering his eyes.

And here Batwoman thought she was the only nocturnal being in the room.

The Joker stays on the ground, squeezing his head between his palms as if he is preventing a headache. He moans and cries and he laughs. Basic Joker dramas. The silver light of her cowl hides the eye roll. 

“There is— _uhhh_ —something wrong with me!” He cries out, holding his face. Or is he hiding it from her?

“So you noticed. _Wonderful_.”

She takes a step around the room, her soundless boots allow her to move quietly like a predator at work. If he is planning something, he could be hiding some evidence around. 

“What the—“

She holds up a notebook from his bunker. The title reads ‘ _The Joker and His Bat’_ with extra hearts and kisses drawn around. 

A few wheels turn in her head as she puts the pieces together.

_That delusional fuck._

“For a while, I thought this uh— _obsession_ of mine was getting outta hand ya know?”

Joker sits where he fell down. His hair still curled up in front of his face; he doesn’t bother to push them away. His hands on his knees, his back curled down, head low.

“All the fights and all the games and all the little _oopsy doopsy_ murders just to get you to come out and play. I believed I hated your goody two shoes— _hehe bats with shoes_ — then... it occurred to me that uhhh—I’m feeling something else entirely.”

“You’re sick, Joker.”

“Exactly,”

He clicks his tongue, “But you—you get it. _Right_? You get it—we are _connected_. We are two sides of the same coin!”

Joker claps his hands as he makes his point.

Batwoman feels like throwing a chair at his head. A pitty he doesn’t have the luxury of owning one in this cell. 

“My coin has only _one_ side.” She is back at his throat again. She pulls him on his feet with one move. “It’s _justice_.”

“ _God_ , you are _boring_ sometimes.”

He drops his head back, the only thing keeping him up is the black gloved hands squeezing his collars.

There are times when Batwoman hears people making comments about how fragile and weak the Joker is. His long and slender figure seems to hold no power or agility. Batwoman knows better. She has seen first hand how powerful and skilled he is. He might seem weaker than most, but the clown knows where to hit to hurt the most. And he does it now, as he kicks a knee under the front plate on her chest, knocking the air out of her. She stumbles back and hits a wall. In a matter of seconds, it’s the Joker that pushes her up the wall, using his weight.

“ _Batsy baby_ ,”

Joker is breathing down her face. He has her hands in his own. He knows her too well. If she reaches for her belt, his little stunt is over. Batwoman stops wiggling her way out the moment she notices how he is _enjoying_ it.

When she is beating him down and kicking his ribs and breaking his bones, she tends to forget he is actually human. He notices the uncomfortable curl on her lips and grins wide and bright. She can loosen up a hand right now and punch him in the face, but she hesitates as he licks his lips momentarily.

“You keep talking about justice,” he breathes deeply, tilting his head and coming way too closer to her face. Surprisingly, he smells of mint and cotton candy. This is what people smell before dying by his hand. The air stops in her lungs, Batwoman might just puke.

“But the thing is, justice can’t make you feel good—“ he looks down at her lips. “—I can.”

She miscalculated her chances at freeing her hand from his death grip, he is holding her hands in a very bad angle. Any move from her might break the bones in her wrist. She needs her hands if she wants to punch the daylights out of him later. So in the few seconds delay of her actions, he sniffs her face like a hungry animal, and then puts his lips where they do not belong. This is where her knee comes up to hit him between the legs, throwing him across the room.

He laughs. He rolls on his back and he giggles like a mad man that he is, holding his crotch with his hands. Batwoman wipes her face with the back of her gloved hand. She can nearly taste Joker in her mouth, and feel him weighing down on her. She shakes the feeling away and takes one of his arms forcefully as Joker chokes himself on the ground with laughter. Batwoman pulls his arm up with enough power to get his attention, he quiets down slowly as his eyes remain on hers with an intense light on them. In this moment Batwoman can see the hatred—the _obsession_ —swimming in his eyes.

“You touch me like that ever again, I’ll break the other one.”

“Wait—hah—the other wha—aah—“

Batwoman breaks his arm from the elbow without hesitation. The sound of bone shattering echos in the empty cell of the asylum. The lights flick off, leaving the Joker with his own sound of laughter and the tear in his eyes as he curls up to himself in pain.

When the lights turn back on, there is no sign of the Bat.


End file.
